


Fun Fair

by alectheta



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 09:38:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3645519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alectheta/pseuds/alectheta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's going through Hardy's and Ellie's minds when they come across the fun fair behind Hardy's house in s02e05? And what happens afterwards?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fun Fair

A fun fair has sprung up behind his house. An obnoxiously loud and glaring fun fair they have to cross in order to get from the spot where Ellie had to park her car at the edge of the fairground to the door in the wooden fence surrounding his little blue shack on the water. They. Fred’s with Ellie. She had to pick him up from the childminder's when they got back from Claire before she could drive Alec home. Instead of dropping Alec off and leaving, she got out of the car, loaded Fred into his stroller, and started walking. Alec has known her long enough by now to recognise that look of determination in her deceptively mellow eyes to not try and stop her.

They’re all going to end up there, in his house. There’s no way to prevent this from happening anymore. Ellie is unstoppable once she gets going. She’s following the Sandbrook case, which means she’s following him home to the Sandbrook case files, and she’s not going to lay off, no matter what he does or says, so he doesn’t even try. He just keeps going.

The parallels between the weight of Pippa’s cold, bloated body in his arms and the heaviness with which he drags himself through the world are not lost on Alec. He feels like he’s slowly dying. He’s so cold all the time. If it weren’t for a constant supply of hot, caffeine-free tea, he’d be frozen into an unmoving statue by now. He keeps dragging himself towards the blue fence, leaning forward in the hope that it will make it easier for the rest of his body to follow.

There haven’t been so many people in a place Alec lived in in months…years, you could say by now. The self-imposed solitude came close to feeling comfortable. No tricky social waters to navigate. Right now, those waters are turning into a reef in the quarter of an hour before a storm strikes: Not deceptively calm and shimmering anymore. Instead, menacing ripples are stirring the surface and revealing the sharp corals beneath.

Still, although she’s been nattering on behind him for a few minutes now, Ellie’s presence doesn’t feel like part of the storm. Weirdly so, because she’s at the center of one, and she’s bringing it here, where he tried with so much futile effort to keep at least some of it out and instead clean up the mess that another storm that had raged through his own life had left. Ellie, however, is managing to shift herself out of the eye of her own hurricane by sheer force of will. The hopeless longing to pretend that Joe’s trial and everything that led up to it isn’t connected to her fills the air around her with the strained buzz of despair avoided at all costs.

That’s all it is, though. Hopeless. It’s already too late. In her distressed attempt at distracting herself, she’s blindly sliding into the Sandbrook case with her eyes wide open. Even if it helps her to forget, to avoid, Alec’s past has come back in full force in turn. With Ellie. Who’s following him persistently. And nattering on. When he found Pippa’s body in the river, the realisation that there were people who’d leave a child like that hit him so hard that it left him speechless ever since. Not so with Ellie. The worse it gets, the more she talks.

Alec has been walking in front of her for a while now, so he turns back to look at her while she’s speaking, to show her he’s listening although he’s not responding because he is afraid he would accidentally pierce the bubble of distraction and keyed up over-excitement she has constructed around herself.

 

Ellie is on a roll. Facts about the Sandbrook case whirl through her mind, some touch, and connections form. More and more possible links emerge the longer she ponders what she has so far learned about the murder of the two girls while she tries to keep up with Hardy's not overly fast, but long and purposeful strides despite her pushing Fred's stroller.

Blinking lights, tinny music, and the intense scent of burnt sugar mixed with the dull and slightly sickening odour of rancid hot oil penetrate her analysis. When it really sinks in where it all comes from, that all that emanates from a fun fair that is set up in what is practically Alec-the-grump’s backyard, glee rises within her as if she were a water fountain with the tap stuck on full on.

They need to cross the fair to reach the narrow alleyway that leads to Alec's house. It takes a bit of force to get the stroller over the bumpy grass, but in her hyped up state, Ellie doesn't even notice. Instead, her mind latches onto the promise of excitement, escape, and better times that her unconscious associates with places like this, despite their undercurrent of despair. Or maybe because of it. In any way, the fountain is still going strong, the tap still stuck, and a rainbow of running commentary of their surroundings spills out of her.

"Ooh, bumper cars, Hardeee," she crows excitedly with a silly inflection in her voice to Fred while glancing at Alec from the side. Alec doesn’t answer. Neither does Fred. She can't see his face from where she's walking behind the stroller, but she knows that he's listening, overwhelmed in his attempt to take it all in and make sense of it. It spurs her on further.

„Aww, I think this is brilliant!“

No reaction whatsoever from Alec. He's staring straight ahead again. She wants him to respond. He has to. She needs to let off steam and irritating Alec Hardy is the one thing available to her that always works, sadly. It’s childish and insensitive, but she isn't able to ponder ethical questions concerning her own life right now. She just needs to get him out of his shell, otherwise she’ll boil over. So she keeps going.

„Did you not know this was going to be behind your house?“ she asks, a slightly acrid tinge mixed into the mischief in her over-energised voice.

„The rental company forgot to mention it when I took it on,“ he mumbles.

Not the kind of response she was looking for, but he’s found a fact to latch onto, so at least he said anything at all.

Still, she doesn’t want him to escape to facts. She can’t bear to be alone in the emotional turmoil churning within her. She’s overwhelmed by the need to drag someone else into it so she doesn’t get pulled under by the weight being isolated puts on her. Ellie has never been any good at being alone.

"We could go on the teacups."

Her voice hasn't sounded that high in a while, not even when talking to Fred. Alec turns towards her, finally.

The tiredness that resulted from her inability to sleep more than a few fitful hours a night has morphed into a feverish state of constant overstimulation. In a way, she's already on a ride of the teacups and unable to get off. Slowing down or even stopping is not even remotely an option. The discord of her keyed up psyche and the lack of any kind of emotional response from Alec chafes at her. An overwhelming need to penetrate the stoic dark grey wall that is Alec Hardy takes ahold of Ellie. The momentum of her despair forcefully propels her forward. Even as she feels social convention lose its usually tight grip on her, she barrels head first into something that she knows will make him uncomfortable, may even hurt him, neither of which she wants to be the cause of.

"We could take Uncle Alec," she blurts out before she can even try to reel herself in.


	2. Something Orange

Today's heart episode leaves Alec shocked, much more so than any of the previous ones ever did. There's a frightening finality to it this time. His mind goes into overdrive in a desperate attempt to keep him awake as he's lying in front of the steps to his house, on the brink of becoming unconscious. He startles back into alertness to his pulse trying to outrun death and finds himself guided by an unrelenting drive to do whatever it takes to stay alive. Up to now, he loathed having to swallow the chalky pills, hated with a passion that he depended on them to remain among the living. Today, they are like a lifesaver dancing on the water, almost, but not quite out of reach. So he reaches, holds on to his consciousness for long enough to find the package and to get the pills out of it despite his shaking hands and the blurred shapes and colours dancing in his vision. He manages to swallow them with some tepid leftover tea. The bitterness rising from the cup mingles with the musty odour from the brackish water in front of his house and the smell of an afternoon rain shower that wafts up from the sun-warmed floor. He struggles to his feet, braces his hands on his thighs, and takes it all in in greedy, shuddering breaths.

Alec moves with determination once he recovers just enough to stumble along on wobbly legs. He can't just keep waiting and hoping for the best without making arrangements for the worst. He needs a will. He wants it to be clear that his daughter Daisy and no one else is going to inherit his belongings. He fumbles for his coat and tells Ellie as nonchalantly as possible that he's going for a walk and that he's leaving her the keys under the doormat. The word eludes him in his panic and all he can come up with is "... under the... thing." His voice sounds exactly how forcing the air out of his constricted lungs feels, and he does his best to leave quickly to escape Ellie's probing questions. Thankfully, she's so engrossed in sorting through the case files that all he hears her say is an absentminded "Okaaaay...".

The lights and the shrieks wafting over from the fun fair behind his house pass him in a blur, despite his slow pace. By the time he reaches the gravel path leading to Jocelyn Knight's house, the dizziness has faded and his vision has cleared. Walking up the hill leaves him breathless nevertheless, and being offered a seat once Jocelyn agrees to draw up the document for him is a relief.

His sudden need to attempt conversation with her - to connect with someone on a personal level - comes as a surprise. This isn't his usual way of dealing with stress. Isolation is Alec's default mode when he's with his back to the wall. That's as much to protect himself as to prevent others from worrying about him. He knows both are remnants of his childhood: shielding himself from his father's rage and sparing his mother any additional concern. His mum did the best she could to make up for his father's distanced behaviour. Most of the time, however, his parents were consumed by their constant arguing. No one was aware when Alec eventually gave up on trying to catch their attention when he would have needed their support. Over time, he retreated into himself as the belief that ultimately, he was on his own grew stronger and evolved into the cold, but solid and reliable foundation of his personality.

When he leaves Jocelyn, Alec is far too restless to return home and go to sleep. He'd probably just dream about drowning in the Sandbrook again anyway. The nightmare hits him almost every night now, its frequency rising along with the rapid increase in symptoms he has experienced over the past few weeks. He is desperate not to spend any more of his valuable time reliving those memories. If it means he'll need to keep himself awake until the day of the operation, so be it. It's only three nights away anyway.

He heads out into the warm orange glow of the sunset that is so at odds with the resigned sadness that is permeating him since his chat with Jocelyn. Having dealt with everything the best he can leaves him free to worry about the upcoming surgery. While he won't be able to put everything right in time, it's at least comforting to know that the Sandbrook case is in Ellie's capable hands. Nevertheless, there's still Joe's trial to worry about. Alec hopes that leaving for the hospital won't equal abandoning Ellie in the middle of it all.

He knows the procedure could end either way. However, the thought that he might not make it through alive keeps pushing itself to the forefront of his mind with the incessant power of the incoming tide. The resulting anxiety is throwing a continual stream of nervous energy at him. The only way he knows how to deal with it is to keep walking. Instead of descending back towards the harbour and his house, he follows the muddy track further upwards in the direction of the hut on top of the cliffs while carefully dodging the puddles that reflect the ragged grey clouds that the wind is blowing across the sky. Alec marvels at the fact that while he still doesn't walk on unpaved roads and over fields and meadows with Ellie's natural ease, he doesn't feel uncomfortable up here in the twilight anymore either.

The dark silhouette of the clifftop hut that stands out against the faint remaining light spilling over the horizon brings back memories of the night when he collapsed in the boatyard after trying to chase down Danny's murderer. Joe, who it turned out to be later. Ellie's husband. Who had panicked and run away when he had become aware that Ellie had come to investigate with Alec. With alarming clarity, Alec recalls her words when he had returned to the station the following morning.

"You'll kill yourself!" she had yelled at him, incredulous that he had released himself from the hospital.

"If that's what it takes," he'd responded.

It hadn't, not in this case.

He'd found Danny's killer. It should have been a relief not to have failed the Latimers as he has the Sandbrook families. Instead, he wishes he would never have had to tell Ellie that the murderer they had been chasing had been Joe.

He hadn't been able to do much to soften the blow. He'd tried anyway. After delivering the hard truth, he'd done his best to be there for Ellie, both in the interrogation room and later, when she came to the Trader's that night and tried to understand the gruesome turn her life had taken. He loathed the defence for attempting to convince the jury that she'd come to his room that evening because allegedly, they were having an affair. Who else could she have turned to? Who in this town would still have been willing to talk to her, to listen to her side of the story without judgment? It was bad enough that all she had left was her grumpy and sick boss who had shattered her world just a few hours before. Alec had meant what he'd said to their colleagues that afternoon: Ellie had needed them, and he will never regret letting her in and spending as long as necessary trying to give answers he didn't have so Ellie could attempt to make sense of what had happened. That night, he'd been in the right place at the right time for once, that lawyer and her false accusations be damned.

Leaving the hut and the turnoff to the boatyard behind, Alec reaches the grassy expanse on top of the next cliff after panting his way up the steep slope on its side. He pauses and watches the light pink glow that is still rippling over the waves further out at sea while the darkness is already creeping up behind him. The wind has picked up after the lull in the afternoon and the constant stream of cool air carries saltwater spray with it that gently settles on his skin. Getting water on his face still makes him uncomfortable, but the lightness of the tiny droplets feels invigorating and not intimidating at all. Instead, there's an energy to the tingling of the cool, salty beads on his skin that, coupled with the freshness of the air, the roaring of the waves and the rustling of the grass in the wind, lets an all-consuming appreciation and hunger for life surge up in him. For as long as it takes for the next wave to crash onto the beach below, spread its water out over the sand and slowly retreat back into the ocean, he is willing to believe that he might live through the operation after all.

Alec takes a deep breath and turns back towards Harbour Cliff Beach. Seeing it all spread out below him - the lights of the town he came to in a futile attempt to do his penance for Sandbrook, where he wound up playing a part in the destruction of two families, no, an entire community instead - ends his moment of hopefulness and a heavy weight settles in his heart. He misses his own family, even Tess - they'd been married for fourteen years, after all, and if nothing else, she's familiar - but most of all, he misses being close to Daisy. His biggest fear about not surviving is loosing her forever. The thought sends a shiver down his spine, and the restlessness returns. He resumes walking.

They already missed out on so much back when she even refused to answer his calls. She changed a lot during those months of silence, and he wants to be there with her along the way as she's becoming an adult. Alec swallows around the lump that is swelling in his throat at the thought that he might never find out what kind of person she'll become, what she'll look like, what she's going to do with her life. Imagining that stops him in his tracks, and again, he's drawn to the darkness of the ocean beneath the blackening sky. Unlike when he first came here, the endlessness of the horizon doesn't upset him anymore. Instead, he now draws a strange solace from the fact that there is something out there that adequately reflects the depth of his despair.

As he's standing there on the edge of the cliff, motionless save for his hair that is being whipped about by rough, chilling gusts of wind, his eyes start to prickle. The onslaught of emotions suffocates him, and he heaves in a shuddering breath in the hope to ease the lump in his throat. It only serves to make his eyes well up further. Then, a first tear breaks loose, followed by another one a moment later. From there on, they spill from his eyes in quick succession. Making their way over the tense muscles of his cheeks, they leave glistening trails in the cold light of the rising moon before disappearing into his beard. The muffled sounds of the sobs that he tries to stifle although there's no one around who could hear them are drowned out by the thundering of the waves. The howling wind carries them inland, where they dissipate into nothingness over quiet, empty fields.

He stands frozen to that spot for a long time, his dark grey coat stretching over his thin, hunched shoulders, the clenched hands at his sides almost swallowed up by its sleeves. From afar, he looks peaceful, a dark figure blending into the grey around him who's finding calm in looking down at the waves crashing onto the beach. Instead, he's being torn apart from within, but there's no one to witness it, not even one of the seagulls he used to despise so much.

Most of the lights down in the harbour have gone out by the time Alec feels a welcome, peaceful emptiness come over him. Worn out, he sits down, not caring that the blades of the hard grass that grows up here are digging through the thin cloth of his suit trousers. Hugging his legs close, he stares out at the ocean without seeing any of it. His gaze is turned inwards, where memory after memory resurfaces: moving out of his parent's house when he was accepted into the police, his first job after finishing his training, falling in love with Tess, the night Daisy was born, her first words, her first steps, a promotion at work, Daisy's first day at school, Tess' and his ten year anniversary, another promotion...

Two murdered girls.

Betrayal, divorce.

Shielding Daisy from the truth about her mother, hiding in the town with the lowest crime rate in Britain, hoping to do his penance -

A murdered boy.

Joe.

Ellie.

Once the sun sends the first blood orange rays of light over the countryside, Alec becomes aware of how cold he is feeling. He gets up slowly to avoid getting dizzy, and after another long glance, he tears his eyes from the horizon and sets out on his way home, cautious to keep his footing on the steep gravel path leading down to the harbour.


	3. Something Blue

He's out of tea bags. There's no milk either, according to Ellie. Judging from the way she looks up at him from her spot on the floor, where she sits wedged between cardboard boxes full of case material, she is wide awake despite having worked through the night. Alec never feels truly alert anymore, but tea - even if it's only the caffeine-free stuff his heart still tolerates - at least infuses him with a minimum of warmth. Since there's no point in entering the kitchen if he can't make any, he remains rooted to the spot, his damp coat hanging limply from his shoulders.

The last thing he expected to find upon returning from the cliffs at sunrise was Ellie Miller, exactly where she was when he left the evening before. And a sleeping toddler. Fred. Sleeping in his bed. Or not sleeping anymore, judging from the babbling coming from the bedroom. Alec's bedroom. He can't process all of this before he's brought his mind up to working temperature with some kind of warm beverage.

Ellie, in contrast, is still burning with purpose. Apparently, she's planning to fill him in on every single thought that has crossed her mind in his absence. She's going on and on about details and unchecked leads she came across while she's scooping a still slightly dazed and rosy-faced Fred up from Alec's bed and carrying him into the living room. When she turns around to pick up her mobile phone and Alec comes into Fred's view, the toddler stares at him from round blue eyes. It's obvious that he's trying to work out how this beardy man that he has seen before, but who has never spoken to him or played with him fits into the small group of people that populate his days: his mother, his childminder, his aunt, his cousin, his brother.

There's no simple answer to that, and in his intense concentration, Fred's mouth and his fist open simultaneously and the teddy bear he had been clutching drops to the ground. Before he knows what he's doing, Alec finds himself bent to the floor, picking the stuffed animal up in a reaction engrained by years of doing the same for Daisy. He holds the bear out for Fred. Fred grabs it from Alec and hugs it tightly without taking his eyes, which resemble Ellie's so much in shape, but not in colour, off of him. Then, he quickly buries his face in Ellie's neck. She's still fiddling with her phone, and the whole exchange goes unnoticed by her. Alec has no intention whatsoever to change that.

Ellie sets Fred down on the single spot of the sofa that isn't littered with paper to put his royal blue jacket on. Even the poor kid can't escape her penchant for vibrantly coloured coats. Then she grabs her own neon orange windbreaker from a nearby chair, slips into it and slings the strap of her brown handbag over her head and across her body in a series of movements Alec has seen hundreds of times by now. The familiarity of it takes him back to a time when both of their lives were a lot less derailed than they are now, and it's a brief, if passing, moment of relief.

Ellie never stops talking. She also never notices that Alec isn't responding, until she turns towards the door with Fred on her hip and he's standing in her way. When she comes face to face with his bewildered expression, she raises her eyebrows and asks:

"What?"

"What are you doing?" Alec asks back.

"Going to Margaret's kiosk to get tea."

When he keeps peering down his nose at the two brightly coloured spots that have invaded his bleak morning, a deep crease between his drawn eyebrows, she adds:

"You said 'I need a cup of tea,' and so do I. So off we go then," as if it were the only logical thing to do.

After a moment's hesitation, Alec resigns himself to the fact that it's already been decided that they're all going to go. At the very least, it might be a welcome distraction. He turns around without another word and steps out of the door in front of Ellie. When he notices the stroller leaning against the side of the house - he must have passed it without even seeing it in the dreary state of mind he was in when he came back - he grabs it and unfolds it, taking care to drape the safety straps over the sides so there's no need to painstakingly pull them out from behind Fred later on. Ellie is going on about Thorp and that Agri-something business she has mentioned earlier while she attempts to place Fred in the stroller. He stretches his feet out in protest and shoves it out from under him. Alec grabs the stroller by its handles and thanks to that, Ellie manages to sit Fred down and buckle him in. Already turning towards the gate, she pats her son's curly hair with absentminded affection. The manic stream of thoughts is still bubbling out of her, and Alec can't get a word in edgewise. By the time he gives up on trying, Ellie is already halfway down the alleyway. Since they can't just leave the kid here, he starts to push Fred along.

It should feel odd to be walking behind a stroller after all those years, especially when there's someone else's child sitting in it. Alec swallows the bittersweet feeling that rises in him when he remembers the long walks he used to take with Daisy when she was about Fred's age. Whenever a case got too close to him and he needed a moment of almost-solitude to sort through all the grief and despair that unfolded before him, he would try to find a little time to spend wandering about with her. While he couldn't bear to be in the presence of other adults with their unnerving tendency to talk it all out, Daisy's oblivious happy babbling and pointing at birds and passing dogs and clouds always helped to pull his mind away from the gloomy reality of the current case. After a while, he'd find a bench to sit on. Once Daisy lost interest in playing whatever game her little mind had come up with that day - for example, hitting the water in a puddle over and over again with a stick she found along the way and squealing in delight at the way the mud splashed in every direction - she would crawl onto his lap and throw her arms around his neck. They'd sit there for a while, with Alec hugging her tightly, while he felt his sadness over all the tragic turns lives could take slowly recede at the warmth and liveliness of his daughter in his arms.

All he can do now is hold on to the memory of their last hug. Daisy had shrugged him off after a moment, typical teenager that she was now. He knows it would have been different if he'd told her he was going to go into hospital. Which is why he won't tell her. He'd rather have her last memory of him being something normal, not some soppy goodbye scene. She wouldn't like that anyway, he tells himself.

By the time the kiosk on the promenade comes into view, pushing the stroller feels so familiar that Alec is wondering whether Ellie would trust him to be alone with Fred. It's been a while since he's taken care of a child, but right now, it feels as if the years since Daisy was a toddler have shrunken into nothingness. The thought hits him out of nowhere, and it's a shock to realise how much he craves to feel like part of a family just once more, before it's maybe too late. He is painfully aware that this moment right now might be his last chance at experiencing anything even remotely comparable, and the pull to pretend that he's a puzzle piece in this broken family right here - "Uncle Alec," he hears Ellie's voice in his mind - almost overwhelms him.

It's a thought very much unlike him, and only a few weeks back, he wouldn't have allowed himself to even remotely consider such a pathetic pretence. However, the moment when they'll cut him open, hoping to mend his broken heart, is only two and a half days away. There's suddenly a driving need in him to make as much of the coming hours as he can. Not that he can do much anymore, mind. The impulse is there though, and it's strong and makes him want to fully take in all those everyday experiences that he never gave much thought to while he still felt good.

Ellie seems oblivious to everything around her. It's a miracle that she stops talking about the case for long enough to get tea for the both of them. Alec stays behind with Fred, out of Margaret's sight. Thankfully, there aren't many people about on the promenade, since it's an overcast day and still very early morning. If anyone sees him here with Miller's kid, they'll either drop dead on the spot from the shock that Shitface is having some kind of human interaction or set the rumours about the supposed affair back ablaze.

Not that any of that matters much in the face of what's looming over him. The painstakingly suppressed panic that has built up in intensity over the past few days breaks free again and forces its way up his constricted lungs. His blood rushes down into his legs and he is suddenly overcome by dizziness. His pulse is thumping in his head. Clutching the handles of the stroller, Alec uses it to keep himself upright while black spots dance in his vision. Fred chooses that moment to lean out over the side to turn around as far as he can to find out why they've stopped moving and if there's still anyone there behind him. At his questioning "Mummy?" Alec forces himself to take slow breaths - in, out, in - so he can answer Fred.

"Your mum is just over there. She's getting us tea. No need to worry. I'm here," he exhales roughly.

Fred doesn't look convinced. "Mummy!" he insists, a little louder and with emphasis, his cheeks almost as red as his colourful socks. Alec does his best to keep breathing as evenly as possible so he doesn't agitate Fred any more by betraying his own unease.

"Your mum is at that little hut over there. Just a moment and she'll be back, I promise."

Fred starts rocking back and forth in an unmistakable attempt to tell Alec to push him towards her. Oh well. If it's going to prevent him from throwing a tantrum, he'll walk up to the kiosk with Fred. It really is silly to worry about who's going to see them and what they might think. Ellie is right, they've already accused them of the affair, so what else are they going to do. It's stuck in people's minds anyway that the allegations might be true and no matter how they act now, it won't get unstuck. He pops two pills out of their packaging, using the stroller to shield his hands from Ellie's view in case she comes back, and quickly puts them in his mouth before he resumes walking. He's glad he can use the stroller as a support so he doesn't trip over his own feet, since the ground seems to roll under him like the waves crashing onto the beach to his right.

Luckily, he doesn't need to swallow the pills dry this time. Ellie has just finished paying and meets them at the corner of the kiosk. When she hands Alec his tea - "Caffeine-free, no sugar, a little milk, the way you like it" - he can feel Margaret's eyes on them. It's a bit much, trying to appear normal for Ellie when the medicine couldn't do its thing yet because it's still sticking to his tongue, while simultaneously making an effort to let it look totally casual and innocuous that Ellie is bringing him tea in the morning and he's pushing Fred around. Which it is, but still.

"Let's go for a walk," he forces out, desperate to get away from it all.


	4. Tea and Theories

A walk seems like a good idea. Ellie's back hurts from sitting bent over all sorts of documents the entire night. Moving around a bit more might help relieve the tension in her muscles. Plus, it's easier think while she's walking.

Alec is slowly trudging up the gravel path to the meadows that stretch from the edge of the cliffs to the foremost houses of Broadchurch. Although she starts out behind him, Ellie is soon far ahead. At the top of the slope, she waits for Alec, thinking he might want to catch his breath for a moment. He's leaning heavily on the stroller, the tea mug in his hand hanging askew. She wonders why he's so averse to getting proper treatment for his illness, since it's obvious it's taking a big toll on him. Maybe she'll try talking to him about it at some point. Not right now though. There's a lot about Sandbrook on her mind that she needs to tell him. Ellie is sure she has made some progress last night that makes solving the case a tangible possibility.

Alec keeps going and passes her by slowly putting one foot in front of the other, so she falls into step behind him.

"I've not found any note of Thorp Agriservices ever being cross checked," Ellie tells his back.

Alec doesn't feel like talking. He's exhausted from pushing Fred up the slope before his heart had been calmed down properly by the pills. However, he can't keep ignoring Ellie's ideas about the case any longer, even if he's not feeling all that great at the moment. It's unfair, she's doing everything she can to solve Sandbrook, even if she's only doing it to distract herself. Focusing on what she came across tonight might also help to keep his trepidation concerning the operation at bay, so he makes himself say:

"I don't think I've ever heard of it."

Ellie ploughs on: "Plus, I went through that stuff Lee Ashworth gave you and it's either useless or irrelevant."

"Ah, he's just trying to put us off his scent."

He's managed to make it sound like their back and forth from a few months back, when at least Ellie's world had still appeared to be in order and she had assumed his was as well and his grumpiness was merely a character trait, not a symptom of illness and stress.

If he can keep this up, he might be able to catch a breath away from his panic by pretending that they're just two normal, untroubled detectives working on a case. Who happen to be taking a walk with a toddler, which makes them look like a bloody family. One he wishes he still had.

"How far did you ever look into Lisa Newbery?" Ellie asks. Alec is grateful that her persistence cuts his soppy thoughts off rather abruptly.

"How do you mean?"

"The last use of Lisa's bank account was at 3:54pm on the day she disappeared, before she went to babysit. A last call was made at 5:17pm - "

At this, Ellie takes a few quick steps to catch up to Alec. She wants to be sure he pays attention to what she's saying, because it's the foundation of a theory she developed in the quiet hours between putting Fred to sleep and Alec's return in the morning, when the only sound in the hut was that drifting in from the water lapping at the wall in front of the house. Since he seems determined to keep walking, she puts her hand on his arm and moves to stand in front of him so he's forced to stop. She really needs him to listen. This might be it. The turning point in the investigation.

" - On her mobile, to her mum. And then no more cash withdrawals or calls made after that. But her phone was on for another 18 hours. Last signal triangulated in Portsmouth. How the hell did her phone get to Portsmouth? Were any of our suspects near Portsmouth then?" she rattles off everything that's been banging around in her head for the past few hours.

"No, we checked. We know all that."

Alec has no idea where she thinks she's going with this. They'd gone over Lisa's movements more times than he can count back then and they'd never come across anything useful.

The spot on his arm where Ellie touched him is still burning when she says with gravity:

"Okay, here's a thing. Lisa killed Pippa. By accident. Got rid of the body and went on the run. She did that and she's still alive. You've got to admit, it's a possibility."

Although she's right, that logically, it's one way the events of that night could have gone, his intuition tells him that it isn't the solution that lets everything click into place. If it had been, they'd been onto it from the very start. After all, it was his first thought when Tess told him that Lisa was still missing after he'd found Pippa. It just didn't add up at the time, and unless Ellie has found something new to support her theory, it still doesn't.

His stomach sinks when he sees himself reflected in her: her obsession with the case has thrown her over the edge, the ideas she comes up with get more outlandish with every hour she spends pouring over the case files. And she spent a lot of hours doing just that last night. He looks over towards the houses so that the scepticism that's probably evident on his face isn't quite as visible to Ellie. He knows she's proud of herself for coming up with a - to her - new theory, and she should be, she's a good detective. Right now though, he's pretty sure her judgement is off.

It's exactly why he asked her to help him - because his own theories had become more bizarre with each passing day, until he wasn't able to discern anymore if what he came up with made any sense at all or if he was clutching at the last straws in his desperation to solve the case in time, to get it right in the end.

She's still waiting for his answer. Usually, Alec isn't one to hold back with his honest opinion. However, considering the beyond tired, wound up state Ellie is in, telling her he thinks she's way off with her theory might not be the best idea.

"Could be one possibility, yeah," he mumbles and takes a sip of his tea. He doesn't want to outright lie to her. As it is, her conviction that there are no secrets between them is weighing heavily enough on him.

If Ellie keeps going like this, it's not going to help either of them. The case can't be solved without keeping a level head. Although he of all people understands that she needs the distraction, it's also not worth sacrificing her health in the process. By trying too hard to protect herself, Ellie has lost the ability to do exactly that.

He'll do it for her. As long as he can, that is.

He should have been much more persistent in sending her home yesterday, but at that point, he'd already been weakened from the oncoming attack, so he had relented in the face of Ellie's steadfast determination. In addition, her announcement that she was going to solve the case had sparked a much needed shimmer of hope in him and he had been too selfish not to hang on to it.

Now, however, Alec is trying to come up with a way of getting Ellie to calm down a bit that won't just result in one of her snide retorts. From the way she ploughed up the slope at an angry pace, she needs to slow down not only mentally, but also physically.

There's a bench ahead, and if he's being honest with himself, he could really use a bit of rest anyway. Alec parks the stroller next to it and stoops to release the safety straps. The moment he's free, Fred slides out of the seat and bounds off to play with the gravel on the path. An odd feeling of déjà-vu washes over Alec at the familiarity of the situation. It's as if he's reenacting a scene of his younger self's life. The past and the present feel superimposed when he sits down to watch Fred play the way he did so many times with Daisy.

The rustling of Ellie's coat when she lowers herself onto the bench next to him shakes him out of the illusion. Tess never accompanied them on any of their walks. Nor would she ever wear a coat like that, much less in that colour.

Ellie is sitting on the very edge of the bench, her back upright and her hands pressed together between her knees. She's staring straight ahead. From the deep lines edged into her face it's obvious she's either still concentrating on Sandbrook or worrying about the trial.

They sit there in silence for a while. Alec debates with himself whether he should say anything at all or if he should leave her alone, give her an opportunity to wind down in her own time.

He glances at her from the side after a few minutes. She's still sitting there frozen like a statue, hasn't relaxed in the slightest, so Alec asks:

"You all right?"

At first it seems as if Ellie isn't going to answer him, but then, she looks down and shakes her head in a movement that's barely there, as if she can't afford to admit that in fact, she isn't all right.

Alec takes a deep breath. She's not going to like what he is going to tell her, but he has promised himself to look out for her.

"You should go home. Try to take a nap, get Fred into some fresh clothes," he attempts to persuade her.

Upon hearing his name, Fred looks up from the middle of the path where he's hunched over two of the pebbles he has collected earlier that he keeps smashing together. He reveals numerous small and big splatters of mud on his face and his clothes in the process. Clutching the biggest of the pebbles, he gets up and almost falls over backwards, but catches himself at the last moment and scuttles over to Alec. Stretching out his arms as far as he can with the - for him - heavy weight in his hands, he proudly offers the pebble to him.

"Do you want me to have that?" Alec asks.

Fred nods, his expression earnest.

"This is your stone," he says.

"Thank you," Alec responds as he takes his muddy present from Fred.

Fred points to the pebble, looking at his mum.

"That's Alec's."

"That's very nice of you to give him one of your pebbles," Ellie praises him, her curiosity as to how the interaction between these two will unfold only barely concealed in those brown eyes that show her relief at the welcome distraction.

Alec produces a tissue from the depths of his coat pockets and leans forward to carefully dab at the patches of dirt on Fred's face. Fred eyes Alec warily, not quite sure if he is ok with that, or if he's supposed to be ok with that. He looks to his mum, and since she doesn't appear to be concerned, he relaxes and even takes a step forward when Alec gently pulls him towards himself so he can reach Fred's other cheek. Some of the mud has dried and requires quite a bit of rubbing to get it off Fred's skin, and he ends up leaning against one of Alec's knees so he doesn't fall over.

"All done," Alec proclaims and lets go of Fred. Instead of returning to his pile of rocks or running to his mum, Fred stays put. He leans over Alec's leg and scrapes the edge of the pebble Alec had laid down beside him over the wooden seat of the bench.

The trust Fred is showing him both warms Alec's heart and chills him to the bone when he thinks of the kid's father. His right hand comes up to lie protectively on Fred's back.

When he looks up after watching Fred play for a while, he catches the wistful expression on Ellie's face before she turns away in an abrupt movement that swings her hair in front of her face. Alec withstands the sudden impulse to brush the curls out of the way to find out what she doesn't want him to see. Instead, he racks his brain to come up with a harmless topic of conversation. However, everything he can think of holds the potential to be a misstep in the treacherous marsh of their shared history, so he stays quiet.

"He likes you," Ellie says, her voice very quiet, as if she hopes he might not hear her say it. Her expression is still hidden behind her dark corkscrews that are dancing in the breeze while she seems to be focussing intently on the pebble she's kicking back and forth between her trainer-clad feet.

While he's glad that she has finally slowed down enough to notice what's going on around her, Alec wishes they were still talking about Sandbrook. Sitting here with Fred almost on his lap and Ellie next to him feels entirely too right. The case is much safer territory, and isn't that just the strangest of thoughts after all it has done to him.

At that, he realises that Ellie has ignored his attempt to get her to stop obsessing over Sandbrook for now so she can take care of herself and Fred. It also gives him an opportunity to deflect from Ellie's observation, so he says:

"You should really go home. Get some rest, even if you don't sleep."

"Oy, you are telling me that? You didn't sleep either last night, did you? You look like shit," Ellie throws back at him, relieved to be back in familiar territory.

There's not much he can say against that, so he stays quiet.

"Where were you all night anyway? Oh my god, you were at Claire's, weren't you?"

She stares at him in shock from wide brown eyes.

Seeing Ellie think she knows what's been going on when what she imagines couldn't be further from the reality of last night hurts. He'd rather tell her a half-truth than have her thinking he spent the night at Claire's. Alec feels his hand on Fred's back tighten, so he lets it fall away in an attempt not to startle him.

"No, of course not! I went for a walk!"

Fred looks up at Alec at the indignation in his voice, unsure if he did anything to make him angry.

"Why would you walk around outside all night by yourself?" Ellie asks with more fervour than necessary.

"Remember how you said you don't really sleep at the moment? Well, neither do I. Haven't for quite a while, actually. So I walk instead."

Ellie stares at him, a deep crease between her eyebrows, clearly at a loss if she should believe him or not.

At the tension building between the two adults, Fred retreats to his pile of pebbles on the path with an unsure glance back at them.

"Well, you have let yourself be pulled into Sandbrook to cope," Alec blurts out in defence when Ellie stays silent for longer than he can bear.

Alec can see the anger rise in Ellie as her eyebrows wander up her forehead and her mouth falls open. It soon wins the upper hand over her disbelief at the audacity of his words and she spits out:

"And who dragged me into it in the first place? You!"

Alec's hands that are now both curled around the edge of the bench are tight with guilt. She's right, of course, and they're both aware of that. He was desperate to know that he or at least someone got Sandbrook right in the end, and he was running out of time in a much more final way than he'd ever imagined. So he'd asked the only person he trusted to help him. Begged her, really. Still, it pains him to watch her following in his footsteps, especially now that he knows exactly where they have taken him.

He can't tell her where that is though. He knows her too well for that. Alec is so very grateful that Ellie was so caught up in arranging all those bits and pieces of case information on his living room wall when he passed out on the front steps that she remained oblivious to what was going on with him. The trial is pushing her to the edge as it is and he'll be damned if he puts any more strain on her. She can't help but worry about other people and if she found out about his upcoming surgery, she'd only fuss over him and neglect her own wellbeing even further.

"I know," he concedes towards the dirt surrounding his feet.

Then, looking Ellie squarely in the face, he says:

"But please, don't forget to take care of yourself."

Ellie frowns at him in confusion at his admission and his plea. She didn't expect either, especially since it's obvious that Alec did forget to take care of himself the longer the case went on.

Then, she remembers how he tried to send her home last night. However, she doesn't want to go back to the bleak little flat any more now than she did then. Isolation and emptiness permeate it despite the small space being cramped. The blaring silence leaves ample room for thoughts about the trial. No, she really doesn't want to go back there.

"I told you I'm going to solve that case. It's the only distraction that works. I'd go crazy if I had all that time to think about how the trial is going and what might happen if Joe isn't convicted."

It takes a lot of self control not to stomp her foot like a petulant child. Instead, she pours her anxiety into kicking the pebble she'd been playing with. It flies across the path and disappears in the shrubbery on the other side.

Alec follows it with his eyes. Then, he watches Fred stomp around in a puddle in an effort to make it splash as much as possible. He knows that feeling of helplessness that takes hold of a person in the face of a life gone to pieces, knows how the mind latches onto the first problem that seems to be solvable to escape the all-encompassing desperation that swallows every spark of hope. He doesn't want to take those flickers of light away from Ellie, so he says:

"Fair enough. You could come back in the afternoon and we'll have a look at everything you've found out together."

"I was going to go back with you."

Alec looks at her, his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth in a fine line, as if he were in pain.

"Please, Ellie."

She knows that tone, knows that it only ever comes out when he's trying to convey the importance of what he's telling her. That first instance when she heard it is seared into her mind, and with it comes an automatic reaction that has her paying very close attention to what he's saying and why he's saying it.

Oh.

He had been urging her to take care of herself. And of Fred. While she can justify to herself that working through the night isn't that uncommon in her line of work, the fact that she has been dragging Fred around with her for almost sixteen hours doesn't sit well with Ellie, now that she's become aware of it. Bereft of an easy way out of the chaos her life has become, her mind is left reeling. She knows Alec is right. Letting go of Sandbrook for a few hours is frightening, however. Every time she has had any time to herself, she has come back to why she didn't know, why she didn't see what had been going on in her own house.

From the way Ellie's hands are kneading the edge of the bench, Alec can tell that she's weighing what would be easier to do versus what she should do. He wants her, needs her to realise she needs to take care of herself. The longer she stays silent, the more his heart rate goes up in anxious anticipation and he turns the empty paper cup in his hand over and over.

"Let's go," Ellie says suddenly and jumps up.

For a moment, Alec just stares at her while slowly opening his mouth as if to ask her what she has decided to do, but then, he shakes his head and gets up. After throwing his teacup into the bin, he picks up the pebble Fred gave him and puts it in his coat pocket despite the mud that is clinging to it. Then, he gets the stroller and looks out for Ellie. She has taken Fred by the hand and is slowly walking back down towards the beach with him.


	5. Turning Tide

Showering once Fred is napping leaves Ellie a lot more refreshed than she cares to admit, especially to Alec. Afterwards, she falls asleep next to her son as the exhaustion from a night spent without any rest catches up with her.

Seconds after being woken up by Fred's babbling, reality hits her as she remembers the mess that her life has become. Full of nervous energy after her nap, she bathes Fred, who is confused because bathing suddenly seems to come after sleeping instead of before. For once, he doesn't resist when she dresses him in a fresh set of clothes. She grabs his teddy bear and one of his books - she hopes it's still his favourite - and moments later, they are on their way to the little blue house.

"Thorp Agriservices, I googled it, and it's a business in the Sandbrook area, five miles from the Gillespie house. I need to go back there, visit this Agriservices place. I could see where you found Pippa and the woods by the river. Fresh eyes, that's what you wanted," Ellie spouts off once Fred is settled on Alec's sofa with his toys and she and Alec are standing in front of the wall of evidence Ellie has created.

Alec ponders whether it's a good idea to leave Broadchurch in his current condition. He's less worried about being away than he is about being there. By the river. But then, he won't be alone. Ellie would come with him to see the spot where he found Pippa. Maybe he can bear it. Maybe he should go there again before the operation. Going to Sandbrook would also give him the opportunity to tell Tess about his operation and the will in person. She needs to know, on behalf of Daisy. Daisy. Tess. The family he used to have.

Lucy's voice cuts into the silence.

"There you are! Don't you answer your phone? I've been looking all over the place for you! What the bloody hell is all that stuff?"

Lucy is talking to her sister as if the two of them were the only ones here as she's barging into Alec's living room where all the Sandbrook evidence is spread out.

"Excuse me, this is my house!"

Alec tries to sound as indignant as possible, although he is more worried about the case files than about Ellie's sister being in his house.

"What do you want, Luce?" Ellie asks.

She caught on to Alec's tone and walks out of the house, knowing her sister will follow her.

"I just want you to know, I didn't know he'd done it..., " Lucy trails off.

For once, she sounds as if she is really nervous instead of just putting on a show to get something. Ellie crosses her arms to brace herself for whatever Lucy's got to tell her.

"Didn't know he'd done what?"

Ellie wants to know.

She glares at her sister. Why can't she ever just say what's going on without circling around the topic for ages?

"Tom's going to give evidence on behalf of Joe," Lucy says, and her too loud voice grates on Ellies nerves.

She can't believe what she's hearing. The only reply she manages is:

"What?"

"He went to see Joe's legal team without my knowing," Lucy tells her, and it's obvious she's upset. She never liked Joe. Why, Ellie doesn't know.

"He can't do that without my permission, can he?" Ellie asks and glances at Alec. She hopes he knows the answer - wants it to be that Tom can't do that without her consent. She's his mother, and he's underage, after all.

Lucy's next words shatter her hopes.

"Apparently he can. I tried to talk him out of it, but he's dead set on it, El."

Oh no. Please. No. Joe shouldn't have anyone speaking up for him. He doesn't deserve it, and if he gets let off because of that... No. Please no. Not Tom.

"El?"

Ellie is holding herself together in the literal sense of the word. If she loosens the tight grip of her arms around her, she won't be able to contain her anger at the unfairness of the world any longer. She feels the need to lash out and destroy something, to hurt someone else the way she's being hurt over and over again.

"No no, just go away Luce, go away," she forces out, and Lucy has known her little sister for long enough to be aware when it's better to retreat. She leaves, but not after a long look at Alec. He's not sure what Lucy is trying to tell him - that he should take care of Ellie now that she's been sent away? As if she'd ever done such a great job.

Once Lucy has closed the gate behind her, Alec slowly descends from the top of the stairs from where he'd been following the exchange between the sisters. He moves to stand next to Ellie, who's still hugging herself. He looks out at the water, while Ellie is clenching her teeth and looking down at her feet that are searching for something to kick.

When she doesn't tell him to go away, Alec looks at her and raises his hand to the base of her neck.

He feels the knotted muscles let go minutely under the palm of his hand, but then the tendon below his thumb jumps as she jerks away from him. The memory of how she absorbed what little strength he's able and more than willing to give just an instant ago is fresh in Alec's mind, and he lets his hand slide down along Ellie's back as she turns away from him, wanting to give as much comfort as she's able to take.

Ellie, however, squirms out from under his touch until the contact eventually breaks. Alec isn't offended. If there's anything he understands, it's that overwhelming need to keep your distance when you're feeling cornered and desperate, because you'd fall and fall and keep falling if you allowed yourself to follow the pull of the sympathetic touch of another human being.

He withdraws his hand and calmly places it back into his right trouser pocket. There's no hint of upset in his movements, only acceptance. He stays put next to Ellie and looks out over the murky water, hoping that she knows that this is his way to tell her he will be there at her side whenever she needs him. If he's still around, that is, but that, just like so much else, he keeps to himself.

It's only when they hear something crashing to the ground and Fred's squeal of delight that they both remember the toddler in the living room.

"Oh god, what did he do now?"

There's desperation in Ellie's voice.

"I've got it," Alec tells her and makes his way into the house to find an overturned chair as the reason for the noise. Fred's teddy bear is sitting on top of it and from the noises Fred is making, the chair is supposed to be some sort of vehicle. Relieved that nothing bad has happened, Alec strokes the toddler's head. When he hears steps behind him, he quickly buries his hand in his pocket and turns to Ellie.

"I'll come with you," he tells her.

"Come with me where?"

Ellie is still caught up in the news that Tom is going to give evidence and can't make sense of Alec's statement.

"To Sandbrook and Portsmouth," he says and gives her a knowing look.

Ellie looks back at him, and without another word, the necessity for a distraction has been agreed on. They are going to go. Together. As soon as possible.


	6. Portsmouth Quay

They sit next to each other on the quay in Portsmouth after they leave Thorp Agriservices - they both need a moment to process what they've just discovered, and fresh air to get rid of the smell of dead animals that has settled in their lungs. They've shed their coats - the thought of the bloodstained plastic curtains touching its sleeves made Ellie take it off as soon as she got away from that awful place, and Alec followed suit. The distress and disgust at what they found is spilling out of Ellie in many, many words.

Once the first shock has worn off and the smell of the salty seaweed that is swaying rhythmically in the water below them has replaced the sickening sweetness that clung to them long after they'd left the building, Alec uncrosses his arms and leans back on his hands. His right arm now shields Ellie's back. He doesn't touch her. She keeps ranting, on how anyone can do anything this terrible, and he knows she also means Joe. Tears stream down her face, and when she's done, wet tissue still in her hands, she hangs her head.

Just as Alec asks himself if he should show any sign of trying to comfort her, maybe lay his hand on her back - or would she just draw away from him again?, she allows her head to drift towards him in a movement that looks almost resigned. Alec slowly sits up, his hands trailing over the rough concrete behind his back and over a few soft blades of the grass that is growing through the cracks.

Their movements have brought them close enough together that Ellie can sense the warmth radiating off of him. It feels like she has found water in the desert. She has been isolated for so long. She can't not drink it anymore. She's starved for human touch. Ellie follows the pull, relaxes the tight hold of the muscles in her back that kept her in check up to now, and her head slowly drifts towards Alec's chest until it comes into contact with the wrinkled cloth of his shirt.

She wonders if she should do this, what Alec thinks about it, if she is making him uncomfortable, but she can't let go of the oasis she has found. Even if it's a fata morgana, she doesn't care. She needs the illusion, anything, to soothe her raw nerves.

Not an illusion, the realisation trickles into her mind when she feels Alec's arm close around her back, drawing her further in. Her nose is being pressed against the cotton of his shirt that had surprised her with its softness and comforting feel against her cheek, with Alec's warmth seeping through it and the faint, calming smell of generic drugstore soap that is soothing in that it's not unique. There are no specific memories associated with a smell that you've encountered in so many different situations in your life that not a single scene, good or bad, stands out. In a way, it's like him, in that it's just there. You don't even notice it until it chases away the stink of deteriorating, decaying lives.

She can feel his warm breath against her forehead and knows he is looking down at her. She doesn't care if he sees her like this. He's seen her at her worst already. The relief at not feeling so immensely lonely anymore loosens the knot in her throat that was suffocating her and she hiccups another sob. Alec's other arm comes around her at that and he enfolds her in an engulfing hug that she all but hides in. He creates a bubble for her to be in, a shelter in which she can calm her frayed nerves, by gently dropping his chin onto the top of her head. Feeling his beard prickle on the skin of her scalp is a strangely calming sensation. It grounds her. The feeling that she would dissolve and fly away that had grown stronger and stronger as each new day tore at her finally subsides. What a relief that she doesn't need to spend the little energy left after so many sleepless nights on keeping herself together anymore.

They sit like that for the better part of an hour, their breathing long since fallen into sync. When the next ferry leaves and toots its horn loudly, Ellie flinches and giggles into Alec's chest. "Bit weird," she says as she raises her head to look at him, the arm that drew her into him loosening its grip as he senses that her breakdown has ebbed. When she meets Alec's eyes, dried tears and snot on her face, he's smiling down fondly at her. The shock of that almost starts her crying again. It's a good look on him, though, and instead, she drinks it in. He gives her back a slow, but deliberate squeeze. Then, raising his head, he sniffs and looks out over the water, his arm still around her.


End file.
